


works no longer in progress, 2015 ed.

by pnjunction (justjoy)



Series: {works no longer in progress} [2]
Category: Magic Kaito, 名探偵コナン | Detective Conan | Case Closed
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-08 21:20:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17393930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/pnjunction
Summary: Random snippets and unfinished works circa 2015; entirely DCMK-centric, details in chapter titles/notes.





	1. when in doubt, science [verse: wtnv!crossover]

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [he says he is a (high school) detective](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874548) by [presumenothing (justjoy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/presumenothing). 
  * Inspired by [here all along](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904458) by [presumenothing (justjoy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/presumenothing). 



> in this instalment – i… don't even know for sure, honestly, i barely even remember writing most of these? this is absolutely just for archival clearing purposes but hey, enjoy it anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the would-be sequel to [this utterly bizarre wtnv crossover](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874548)

Carlos leads them to the lab, which has become the unofficial-official point of induction for all new arrivals to Night Vale, the same way Big Rico’s is the pizza place of the town.

“Listeners,” says Cecil in his earpiece, “I have exciting news to report! Sources claim that there are four new arrivals to our fair town. Their identities are still a complete mystery, as is the custom, but one of them is reported to be dressed rather strangely – navy blue jacket over a white shirt, which, as you all know, isn’t exactly the best fashion choice - ”

Carlos turns the volume down with a chuckle. Of course Cecil agreed with the dress sense of only one of their new arrivals, and of _course_ it’s the caped one rather than anyone else.

He gestures the group over to an empty lab bench (usually used for coffee breaks, in blatant violation of all lab protocol, but cross-contamination rarely even makes it onto the list of Scientific Concerns in Night Vale anyway) and takes a form off a stack on the largest bookshelf, labelled simply _Arrivals_.

(The forms are even less than a formality, since given the Secret Police’s near-constant surveillance they’re more than likely to procure any information before Carlos can even write it down, but if nothing else it gives a (potentially questionable) sense of security which is definitely good in Carlos’ book.)

“Alright,” he says to the four seated around the bench – the two teens on one side and the children on the other. “I’m going to need your names, where you were before arriving here, and what you were doing at the time.”

“I could write it down for you,” offers the blond teen, reaching into his school satchel.

Carlos shakes his head ruefully, displaying the carefully sharpened piece of graphite in his hand. “Local regulations, I’m afraid.”

His answer gets even less of a reaction than it usually does – resignation to boredom to mild interest.

(The graphite was already a grudging compromise by the Secret Police between the “no writing utensils” rule and the fact that a toothpick dipped in dye was liable to unduly alarm any arrivals.)

The blond teen sighs and begins first. “Saguru Hakuba, I was at my school in Tokyo before arriving here, enquiring after a _certain_ absent classmate of mine.”

Carlos nods and writes it down, though he does wonder about the pointed glance Saguru directed at his fellow teen.

“Conan Edogawa and Ai Haibara,” says the boy next, gesturing first to himself then the girl next to him. “We were also in Tokyo, walking home from school.”

At this point, he’s also staring at the other teen – even the blonde girl is looking at him in mild curiosity, which is making Carlos curious in turn.

The monocled teen looks back at them evenly, although Carlos thinks he sees a hint of challenge behind his monocled eye. “Kaitou Kid, though I suppose you’d call me Phantom Thief Kid in English. I was casing a location in Tokyo in preparation for a heist, Carlos-san, so if you would be so kind as to return me there…”

(That is, unfortunately or otherwise, not the strangest thing he’s heard in the course of filling out this form – though it does explain the reactions of the others, all of whom are giving Kid varyingly incredulous expressions of disbelief.)

Carlos raises an eyebrow, writes _preparing for heist_ under the appropriate column, and says “I’ll see what I can do. Were any of you doing anything liable to trigger a lapse in reality and/or spacetime?”

He’s met with three flat looks and one thoughtful one, though finally Kid shakes his head, looking a little rueful (or perhaps that’s just his imagination). “Not this time, unfortunately. Even if the legends of this gem held any water, I think I would’ve preferred less troublesome companions for any teleportation.”

That gets several muttered comments from both Saguru and Conan, which devolves quickly into what seems to be a half-English, half-Japanese (he assumes) sniping contest between the three, with the occasional contribution from Ai, who mostly just seems to be adding fuel to the figurative fire.

The pointed asides continue until he finishes the checklist ( _no_ for _prior instances of time-traveling_ ) and stands up to place the form into the tabletop bloodstone circle, where it promptly vanishes into the bureaucratic depths of the Secret Police (presumably, Carlos doesn’t actually know what they do with the forms after he writes them).

“We’ll try to sort this out,” he says in answer to their expectant glances. “Anything you need in the meantime?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> because neither immortality-granting glowy gems nor deaged teens are particularly remarkable in a town where time is a mere suggestion, after all


	2. two steps forward [verse: here all along]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the would-be sequel to [this sorta!fake!date promptfic with kaito and saguru](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4904458), except that it's set in some fancy ball where there's been a fake heist note and they end up teaming with conan and haibara to solve it or something

The transformation is instant, or nearly so - the second Mouri Ran turns away, Edogawa’s expression shifts to cold calculation where there was previously childlike excitement.

A facade, Saguru realises belatedly, which he most definitely _should have noticed_ even if he’d been reeling in shock from the sudden appearance of Kuroba-as-Kuroko, which still did not make _any sense_ -

His thoughts are interrupted by Edogawa’s voice, barely even sounding like an elementary schooler’s. “Who are you?”

The words are directed at Kuroba ( _Kuroko,_ Saguru reminds himself quietly and insistently - to slip up now would be disastrous, to say the least) but Saguru feels himself tense up all the same.

Beside him, Kuroba seems as relaxed as he did two minutes ago, but there’s something indefinably _different_ about the way he holds himself now, meeting Edogawa’s narrowed gaze evenly.

(A brief, hysterical thought crosses Saguru’s mind: which would be weirder - to explain that this was a classmate of his who’d helpfully taken up the role to save Saguru from his own folly once, or let lie Edogawa’s obvious assumption that this was the Kaitou Kid in disguise?

The fact that both of these statements were true notwithstanding, of course.)

“Wrong question, tantei-kun,” Kuroba finally says, still in the soft tones of his persona.

Edogawa holds the gaze for a moment longer before breaking it with a short nod of his head. “Fair enough. Why are you _here,_ then?”

Kuroba flicks a glance over to Saguru himself before answering, clearly intending his next words for both of them.

(Idiot. As if Saguru hadn’t already been paying attention right from the start.)

Then he says, “Kaitou Kid didn’t send this heist notice.”

Which is -

_Not_ what Saguru had been expecting to hear in the least.

Edogawa blinks once, and Saguru can practically see him filing this declaration away even as he looks back up at Kuroba. “Are you certain?”

Kuroba manages a smile, though it borders on a grimace. “Do you really need to ask?”

This answer appears to convince Edogawa, but his eyes are still very intent behind the wide lenses. “And?”

Now Kuroba _does_ tense, ever so slightly, and in the moment it takes for Saguru to connect to dots Edogawa has already continued his deduction.

“That’s obviously not all of it. We’ve handled imposter cases just fine before.”

Edogawa tilts his head, studying Kuroba intently from behind wide lenses, but Saguru is the one to ask the next question. “What’s different this time?”

“Aside from the heist note being one of the best forgeries I’ve ever seen?” Kuroba’s smile turns bitterly unhappy. “Word has it that whoever’s behind this is aiming at something much less… _trivial_ than petty theft.”

Edogawa mutters an age-inappropriate curse under his breath, and Saguru can’t help but echo the sentiment silently.

If Kuroba had looked unhappy before, it’d been replaced by stark bitterness now, and - damn it all, Saguru _knew_ that he hadn’t been imagining the hints of strain around the edges of Kuroba’s expression these past few days.

(Saguru allows himself one moment of pure frustration - _why_ hadn’t Kuroba just come to him earlier, the idiot? - before he silences those thoughts to focus on the task at hand.)

“Any leads?”

“Nothing useful.”

“Then let’s split up. We’ll take the east wing, you guys check the west,” Edogawa says decisively, and Saguru is almost about to ask _we?_ when he realises there’s someone else standing beside him - a blonde girl, elementary school aged from the looks of it, who reaches into her purse before tossing something to Kuroba.

A yellow and green badge, it turns out.

“You know how to use this, I assume,” she says dryly.

“I think I can figure out how, yes.” Kuroba’s voice shades towards normal, losing the tension that’d been in there shortly before. “Your assistance is greatly appreciated, ojou-san.”

“ _Someone_ needs to keep all of you in line,” she mutters quite audibly, already turning to move.

“Just one question,” Kuroba calls out before they can melt into the crowd. “What gave me away?”

“The usual. And Saguru-niichan’s reaction – that was confusion, not surprise. You should work on his acting,” Edogawa adds dryly over his shoulder. “Tell us if you find anything.”

 

* * *

 

Saguru watches the two small figures slip away into the crowd. “It’s not the first time that you’ve worked together, is it?”

“Edogawa-kun’s sense of morals is considerably different from yours,” Kuroba answers after a moment of consideration, before adding, “Which is merely an observation, by the way, not a criticism.”

“I didn’t think it was,” Saguru answers honestly, though he makes a mental note of this… interesting answer. Perhaps some of previous Kid cases with Edogawa’s involvement were worth taking a second look at.

He watches as Kuroba flicks a switch on the small badge before murmuring into it. “Testing, testing…”

Someone - probably Edogawa, Saguru thinks - gives an equally muted retort that apparently amuses Kuroba, who chuckles before palming the badge in his left hand. The levity vanishes as he looks back up, scanning the teeming crowd in the hall, though.

Saguru doesn’t even hesitate before stepping forward and offering his arm. “Shall we?”

And if Saguru does take a moment to wonder how his life became like this, as Kuroba slips his own arm in Saguru’s with a grin that’s as genuine as any he’s ever seen - well, he doesn’t think anyone can blame him.

Saguru has no complaints, though.

 

* * *

 

“So,” begins Haibara as she walks beside him, each scanning their respective side of the hall.

Conan groans. “Don’t even start.”

“Hakuba-san and the Kaitou Kid, is it?” she continues with relish, as if he hadn’t interrupted her at all. “Now that’s something I never thought I’d see.”

“We are not talking about this, we are _not_ talking about this,” he chants in a litany, “we are not talking about _this_ , we are not _talking_ \- ”

“What a shame, I’m sure Suzuki-san would be so disappointed if she knew she’d lost her chance, don’t you think?”

 

 


End file.
